


Interlude

by Siria



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-14
Updated: 2010-01-14
Packaged: 2017-10-06 07:11:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Siria/pseuds/Siria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was definitely going to be filed under the heading of <i>Worst Missions Ever</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Interlude

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [These Proverbs We Made in the Winter Must End](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21653) by [Siria](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Siria/pseuds/Siria). 



> For Friendshipper, who requested a missing scene from my [Big Bang fic](http://archiveofourown.org/works/21653). This should be comprehensible without having read that fic, however. Thanks to Cate for betaing!

This was definitely going to be filed under the heading of _Worst Missions Ever_. It was a little disconcerting to realise that he had so many to choose from, but such was Rodney's life: a seemingly endless parade of blood, peril, and caffeine withdrawal-related trauma. Maybe it wouldn't make the top five, he thought to himself as he swiped underneath his arms and at the nape of his neck with a rough, damp cloth, but it was definitely somewhere around the latter part of the top ten chart—kidnap, assault, being injected with a version of Wraith enzyme engineered to be possibly even more disturbing, the lack of a hot shower and soap afterwards to wash away the sweat.

"Seriously?" he said to the room at large, "Next time we get kidnapped, we should at least do it in a place that has functional plumbing and orthopaedic mattresses."

He got no answer: Jennifer had just fled the room with a mumbled excuse about needing to check up on something with Ronon; Teyla and John, though not able to stand upright, had forgone getting dressed in favour of sitting on the edge of the bed and making out.

"Hey! Hey!" Rodney said, marching over to them and snapping his fingers in front of their faces. "Jennifer said none of that when there's stuff to be done!"

"Funny," John said when he pulled away. There was slightly more colour in his face now, though he still looked like death warmed up—especially with only one sock on and his hair damp and slicked down from when he'd dunked it in the basin of water. "I thought the doc squeaked when you patted my ass, said 'Oh my god, octopus' and ran outside."

"It is most unfair of you to tease her," Teyla said. Her words were a little muffled by the henley-style shirt she was pulling on over her head; it was much too big for her, and with the buttons open, did little to conceal the swell of her breasts. Not that Rodney was complaining. "If it were not for Dr Keller, we might still be under the influence of that substance."

"Yeah, yeah," John said. He'd managed to pull on his second sock and the much-darned pair of pants that the infirmary staff had found for him, but the pants were much too large for him and he had to use a piece of string to cinch them around his skinny waist. "We'll behave."

Rodney squinted at him as he buttoned up his own shirt. "Since when have we ever behaved?"

John made a show of considering. "Good point."

"You are both quite ridiculous," Teyla said mildly.

"_Thank_ you," John said proudly, and the lopsided smirk on his face was so ridiculous that Rodney couldn't help himself—he leaned over and kissed him until John was panting against his mouth and Rodney's neatly pressed shirt was crumpled and wrinkled.

"Ridiculous," Teyla repeated when Rodney and John pulled apart, "but luckily quite sexually attractive."

"Why do I get the feeling I've just been objectified?" Rodney asked John as Teyla slid off the bed and patted his ass in one smooth motion.

John cocked his head to one side. "Do you _object_ to the objectification?"

"Not so much, no," Rodney said without a moment's hesitation.

"Well then," John said, "We're good to go."

"Except for how we're trapped offworld in the middle of a monumental clusterfuck."

John made a face at him. "Isn't that situation normal for us?"

"Well, yes," Rodney had to admit.

"I will leave without you if you are not ready," Teyla called over her shoulder. She was over by the door, tucking the ends of her too-long pants into the tops of her boots.

"Like it's such a picnic out there," Rodney said, trying to look as dignified as he felt possible while wearing only a shirt and a pair of homespun underpants.

"The sooner we are home," Teyla said, tugging on her coat, "the sooner we may take advantage of a mattress large enough to accommodate three people." She turned to look at them and arched an eyebrow, and Rodney tried and failed to stop all the blood in his head from rushing south. "Are you ready?"

John shrugged at Rodney. "You gotta admit, that's a convincing sales pitch."

"In another life," Rodney agreed, "she could have been a motivational speaker."

Later, both John and Teyla would agree never to mention to anyone that Rodney had fallen over himself in his haste to get his pants on—an agreement, however, that did not prevent the two of them from teasing him in private. Since teasing by the two of them generally ended with Rodney feeling sated and more than a little smug, Rodney—well, he swiftly learned not to mind.


End file.
